The Lankville Daily News

Brian Schropp

CUISINE BY BRIAN SCHROPP

The restaurant business is a crazy game. Especially in the depths of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville, you see the food establishments come and go with a reckless fury. So, what makes the good ones last? The taste palette of your typical Deep Northerner can be a complicated one indeed. You need the flavors to be deep, rich and bold- a true Deep Northerner will understand the taste of ‘Lankville O’s’ mixed in a tater tot casserole better than most. One person who is trying to get the answer right is a good friend of mine, Eddie. So far in all his culinary ventures it’s been a very mixed result. I sat down to interview him at his new place ‘Eddie’s’, a newer more upscale affair than his previous restaurant ‘Eddie’s Sub Shack’.

Unfortunately things seemed a little quiet in what should of been a very busy lunch time rush. Eddie was sitting over at a table piled high with bills while punching away at an adding machine ‘trying to make the numbers work’. He was also wearing a pretty nice bra that suited him well. Before getting into the food game Eddie was known around Deep Northern Suburban Lankville as the ‘weird dude who always walked around with a bra on’. He was a local sensation for awhile being in parades and such. I guess he thought his celebrity would help propel him to a successful food career.

​Eddie- trying to make the food business work for him.

I took a seat pushing one of the stacks of bills away so I could see him.

“Hey Bri, just working on these figures and I gotta say it’s not looking very good. The expenses are far outweighing the people who are coming in and putting something in their mouths. I had high hopes of really making this new place as fancy as possible but I’m still using plastic utensils instead of nice silverware. In fact, I’m using the same plastic utensils over and over again since my budget will only allow for one pack.”

“Well I guess as long as you keep washing them that’s OK.”

“Yeah sure keep washing them. I need money for dish soap.”

“Are lunches always this slow?”

“Pretty much. As you can see I have a small buffet set up in the corner by that plastic plant. They say a buffet is a good way of drawing customers in but I’m not sure if it’s really working for me. I’m putting out what any Deep Northerner would look for. White bread with gravy, you can put the gravy on anything over there- the Canned Western Lankville Sausages, the cheesy pasta shells, the various meat bits. It’s good gravy, I got it at the store the other day at a good price. Also have some of those extra spicy nacho chips with a can of nacho cheese, I’ll open the can if someone is interested. Oh and a celery stick in case a person wants to put it with their food to make it look pretty.”

“Why are your bras hanging next to the buffet?”

“Oh, I’m offering a ‘Bra Buffet Special’. You can fill up both sides of the bra for $9.98, the bra cups are pretty deep so it’s a good deal.”

“Do you wash those?”

The ‘Bra Buffet Special’ $9.98 for BOTH cups.

“When I can. I’m a pretty clean guy, I wash at least a few times a week. In fact the one I am wearing now a guy used for my Monday ‘Lankville O’s’ buffet special. I had that canned pasta goodness in all sorts of packaged meat bits and discounted veggies microwaved to perfection. Well actually the dude just wanted to try on the bras which was fine because he paid for the buffet. These Monday buffets have been my most successful so far.”

“How many people have come?”

“Oh, so far only that guy.”

“Have you seen my recent recipe for the ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’? Maybe you could modify something like that to help increase sales.”

“I have seen it!! Looks so wonderful but also just looks too complicated to make.”

“It is at first,” I admitted. “The trick is using the right amount of non-toxic glue. And please don’t try to microwave this one, if you’re going to make it you gotta turn on your stove.”

“I try not to use the stove for much cooking.”

“I guess it’s been kinda rough trying to establish yourself as a fancy restaurant yet having to do this more common buffet.”

“Very much so! If I could only sell this food that’s in the buffet then I could use that money to buy some slightly better food and so on until the money started to flow in. This stuff here can only be refrigerated so many times before it doesn’t even look right.”

“How is the dinner experience going?”

“A little better than the lunches, I go down to the local shelter and pick up what food they have left over to use. Most of the time the stuff looks OK, I use my culinary skills to rework most of it into more fancy dining food.”

“The ‘Maple Chicken’ I got here a few weeks ago was really good, I think I recognized the syrup you used, I use it all the time on my breakfast sandwiches.”

“It’s probably the same brand, I get it at the store real cheap.”

“You know how to keep a nugget crisp even when microwaving it, that’s a pretty impressive skill.”

“Thanks. Hey, who was that crazy dude you were with? The one who freaked out on you?”

“Oh that was my Therapist, Dr. Nickelbee.”

“I would stay away from him, Bri. Not only am I a restaurateur and bra wearer but I am also a ‘soul seer’. I use to travel around with a carnival– yes I did get paid for it but it’s something I really see. That man has a real tortured soul, one of the worst I have ever seen. His inner core is pure chaos.”

“Well, Eddie I really don’t have a choice. My folks are making me see him for his ‘services’, he’s very cheap which appeals to them.”

“Then please, my friend, use your special bumpkin sense around him and use caution.”

​’The Maple Chicken’ which I had before.

Eddie is such a good friend. We talked for a bit more about the food business and before I left a customer even came in! The man was actually just looking for a pay phone but Eddie talked him into shelling out the $9.98 for the bra buffet. In the left cup he put some western canned sausages (sprinkling some of the meat bits on top)– the last part was my suggestion. The right cup was filled with the cheesy pasta and he didn’t take up my idea of putting on the gravy. I said the canned gravy is what really makes this buffet special but I guess not everyone wants to follow everything a trophy-winning food critic with my taste profile has to say.

The gentlemen started pushing his luck slightly– asking if any drink was included in the price. Eddie being the man that he is got some tap water and filled up both cups of another bra for him. Halfway through the customer was grumbling about being able to make this at home but that there was something quite ‘erotic’ about it. He asked if Eddie or myself would be putting on any type of show maybe using the other bras somehow. Eddie just shook his head no, the guy said if there was a show attached maybe it would be worth the price and next time he would bring his wife.

Two weirdos for the bra buffet in one week who would of thought!! I wish Eddie continued success in trying to make it in the rough and tumble food trade. If you get a chance please stop and try to support him for either lunch or dinner time dining. Just say you know me and I am sure he will break out the slightly cleaner plastic ware. Until next time dear readers please keep your mouths and minds open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

I couldn’t believe my luck, me of all people the winner of two FREE passes to ‘Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Theme Park’!! Since the place opened last year it’s become the hottest attraction around Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. Oh, the tales I have heard coming out of those castle walls! Combining elements of modern renaissance fantasy with delicious innovative hot dog inspired dishes, no wonder it’s a big hit!!

Since I won the passes from work (listening to ‘Kooky’102.9 Lankville’s Home of Good Time Oldies) and using the ‘Pizza-A-Round’s’ telephones (only hung up on a few customers) my manager, Scott said I had to take him.

Now Scott wouldn’t of been my first choice to take. Don’t get me wrong– he’s a OK guy just not what I would call a ‘culinary expert’ per say. He’s more of a ‘puking up nachos in the back of a loose woman’s car at 2AM’ sorta food guy. But here we were beyond the castle walls and dare I say the whole place was wonderful and enchanting!! To be honest I was a little worried about being with Scott at first. He had decided to dress in traditional Deep Eastern Suburban Lankville clothing. “It’s my roots Bri, if some northerner has a problem with it then we can have ‘words’.” Luckily he was already a little drunk and just the charm of the place swept him up and put him in a good humor.

​’Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Theme Park’

I instantly got a ‘Sir Duke’s Weenie’ with extra relish and a “Pointed Frank” stuffed with creamy cheese filling. The tales were so true– these dogs did not disappoint!! Where did they get such top of the line franks from? I also got Scott a few things to keep him happy (my folks made sure I had plenty of cash on me). He particularly enjoyed the ‘Bishop’s Dogetty Wiener’ which was two franks stuffed into one bun.

We walked around the various tents and cardboard facades which were made to look like medieval shops in wonderment. How much medieval hot dog related merchandise could there possibly be? The answer-A LOT!!
I wanted to buy Scott a ‘I’m Goofing Around With A Wiener’ t-shirt but they were out of stock on his size.
“Gotta be a Triple-XL, Bri, I gotta’ have room to move,” he noted.

​’Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Theme Park’

The only dark spot at this point was seeing Hank Cameron, manager of Foodville there with his ‘family’. I haven’t seen my arch nemesis in quite awhile and in fact I still had to legally be so many feet away from him. It was pretty crowded so I figured if I just kept my distance things would be fine.
Scott and I stopped to watch a wonderful group of renaissance singers sing songs about hot dogs. They had drawn quite a crowd with kids dressed in foam knight outfits running about waving foam hot dogs which looked like swords. Such a magical experience to watch unfold.

At this point Scott saw rather two well-endowed bar maids heading over to the more adult drinking area of the theme park. “Well Bri, I’ll catch up with you in a little bit.” So I was left alone to my adventure along the cobble stone streets. It was a little while later (after stopping at the Dog Eat Dog Cafe for lunch) that some goofy guy in a hot dog costume (who seemed to be in a hurry) stopped me.

“Hey you’re Brian that cuisine writer for the paper, right?”

After saying I was he grabbed my wrist and started to drag me along with him. “You’re just in time-there is about to be a huge food unveiling at the main castle!! Some say it’s going to be the grandest medieval hot dog revel of all time. The King and the Queen will even be there!!”

​Delightful renaissance singers singing ballads about hot dogs

Having no real time to process what was going on I went with the flow. The ‘main castle’ is usually heavily guarded by the ‘King’s Guard’ (fat guys in yellow t-shirts that say security on the back) but with this goofy guy in the hot dog suit we got in pretty easy.

He led me up and down many steps and then through a courtyard that eventually led back into the castle and we were soon in a glorious ballroom. There were many women and men dressed in their royal finest. The goof introduced me to a few “lads and lasses” as he called them and many knew who I was- I felt like a mini celebrity almost!! Everyone was in a big flutter over this unveiling and were glad I was here to cover it for the paper. Someone even put a jester’s hat on me with little hot dogs dangling off them. It was a big laugh!!

​The goofy guy in the hot dog outfit

Soon the grand entrance was upon us, a bunch of guys dressed in appropriate courtyard attire came racing in lining up to blow their horns. The goof in the hot dog suit said loudly “Here comes the King!!” Everyone applauded as ‘The King’ (the owner) and ‘The Queen’ ( I heard it’s usually some woman who he is currently cheating on his wife with) came in waving. The King got up on a podium to speak. He proceeded to make a small speech on how excited he was to see all the donors to the park present and then began talking up the newest food item that would be on their menu. The King proclaimed it would put ‘Sir Frank’s’ on the map for all of Lankville, this was a top secret project known only to his master chef and a few select others. He then swept his arms, “Ladies and Gentlemen I give you—THE CROWN OF FRANKFURTERS!!!!”

The horns started up again and the master chef rolled in a huge table with ‘The Crown Of Frankfurters’ at the center. Everyone of the court (myself included) were just in awe. Our mouths were open but unable to speak. I now knew what it must have felt like at the first board room meeting when they invented ‘Lankville O’s’. The whole ‘crown’ seemed to have an unearthly glow around it almost like if you took a bite the taste would send you straight to eternal happiness.

​”I give you–THE CROWN OF FRANKFURTERS!!!”

Out came the ladies who were singing earlier to perform again. It seemed like the joy of the event would not end. Sadly things were about to take a dark turn-the lights went out followed by a blood curdling scream and then mass chaos. I felt myself being bumped into by fleeing royalty in the dark, someone may have took a small wiener or two off my jester’s hat. When the lights were finally turned back on the King’s master chef lay dead on the floor with a knife in his back and ‘The Crown Of Frankfurters’ was gone!! How could this have happened? Who would do such a thing? Next week I will give you the chilling details. Until then keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas, Happy Eating- Bri!!

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

After the events surrounding the pizza delivery to President Pondicherry (please see my last two thrilling articles), there is both good and bad news. The good being that the President was very pleased to hear about our fast professional service of bringing the ‘Mid Morning Snack Pizza’ to the three presidential dogs (all named Mr. Peepers). Unfortunately, he also decided to name the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ the best place to get your pets a pizza. Which believe me– any endorsement from Pondicherry is great but this isn’t actually what Scott was hoping for. I went hard to work in trying to come up with a few ideas to capitalize off this and try to keep my manager’s spirits up (otherwise bloodshed was sure to follow). My efforts are turning out to be a bit of a struggle. I had to use a bit of my own money to purchase a can of dog food (had no choice but to let Chet Cameron pick it up from Foodville since they had it the cheapest) which I then put on your basic cheese pizza to run through the oven. The results were pretty disastrous. After airing out the place and calling an ambulance (some guests in our dining area said they were feeling ‘sick’ because of the smell) Scott told me if I pulled something like that again it would be ‘end days’ for me.

My manager Scott relaxing at home.

Honestly, I’m not too worried about it, I know he is just frustrated by the whole ordeal. The other day we had a customer come in and ask innocently enough if we carried actual dog food now since the “Lankville Pet Palace” was closed. Without listening to reason Scott jumped the counter and chased after the guy. A little while later after Scott came back some of us at the pizza shop tried to ask what happened but he was silent on the matter. So please if you were that customer can you please contact me via the paper so I know you are OK?

In other exciting news my friend, Trucker Joe told me about a new exciting tattoo trend at his favorite hangout “The Deep Northern Suburban Lankville Trucker’s Pool and Spa Association” and that tattoo is of me!!!

The now trendy BSS tattoo.

“They have really taken a shine to you there,” Trucker Joe was telling me as we both lounged in tubs at ‘Subs ‘N’ Suds yesterday. “I think it looks pretty cool. One guy, Carl has it on his bicep just above his ‘I heart Mom’ tattoo. Carl looks mean on the outside, inside he is just a big softie. He was telling me with a slight tear in his eye how much he liked talking to you about food, said it reminded him of talking to his Granddad about breakfast sandwiches on the front porch swing as a kid. Now he says his Granddad just haunts him in his dreams. I think he might of knifed him as a teenager over some sort of trucker’s dispute. Anyways, “Sassy Molly’ got one too, pretty sure she has a thing for you– always saying how ‘cute and chubby’ you are. You might be able to see it for free but she’s got it in a spot other truckers have to pay to see.”

I’m glad Trucker Joe was able to pull some strings at the tattoo parlor so I could share it with you.

I find it a great honor and one I do not take lightly. I feel a strong kinship with all the male and female truckers of Lankville– their sense of the open wonder of the road, our same fear of Highway 71 (also known as ‘The Badlands’) and most importantly our wonderful huge appetites. Keep on truckin’ my friends!!

And lastly, I have been receiving many letters through the paper about sharing some of my ‘cutting edge’ culinary recipes I work on at home. So here is one of my more recent creations– ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’. Ingredients you will need- one can of ‘Lankville O’s’, one prepackaged box of gelatin (any flavor would do, I prefer the red or green stuff), prepackaged tomato bits, any other vegetable or meat scraps you might think will work (I have found both ham and scrapple work very well), a couple big cups of sugar and an extra canned processed tomato sauce.

The very delightful ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’

Now take a baking pan placing the gelatin, Lankville O’s, tomato bits, all your scraps of meat, veggies, couple of big cups of sugar, and then mixing it all together into a big ‘ball shape’. The gelatin should act as a sticking agent holding it tight– if you feel it does not have enough ‘form’ I would recommend adding a half can of thick mayonnaise or even a little bit of non-toxic glue or paste. After your ball shape is formed you add on the extra processed tomato sauce then salt and pepper to taste. Now, cooking times will vary depending on what you put in it, I have found microwaving this IS NOT AN OPTION (sorry mom will be buying you a new microwave with next paycheck). I would say use a slow heating time to let all those flavors work in together, once you see the top and edges start to brown it will be done shortly. After letting it cool down please dig in and enjoy!! I found the sweet and savory taste to be very pleasant almost like a dinner and dessert all in one course!! Another option you might want to try is going for more of the dessert side and adding marshmallows with some caramel sauce on top. However you wish to make this stunning culinary idea your know I only wish simply that it’s enjoyed!
Until next time dear reader, keep your mouth and mind open to new ideas, Happy Eating-Bri
​

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

The minutes were counting down to the most important pizza the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ would ever make. You could start to see the crust coming through the pizza oven and in turn men’s hearts beating faster. The other components for the’ Mid Morning Snack Pizza’ needed to be in place.

“Where the hell are the nuggets Charlie?!!” my manager, Scott asked not so nicely while cleaning the actual pizza box it was going in. Everything had to be pristine since this was going to President Pondicherry himself, nothing less would do.

“In the fryer now,” Charlie the nugget guy yelled over. “You said you wanted them as crisp as possible so I waited to the last minute. Don’t worry they will be done.” Scott probably wouldn’t trust anyone else saying that. But Charlie the Nugget Guy was a seasoned veteran– he knew what he was doing.

“Burgers and fries– someone tell me about them!!” Scott was using the cleanest pizza rag possible to clean the edges of the box.

Chet Cameron, one of the best.

Al Slappy was in charge of those– maybe not the best guy under pressure. “I-I forgot the ketchup on the cheeseburgers– gotta open up the buns to put it on!!” We all know that’s a dicey situation– the bun could be damaged with the melting cheese sticking to the burger.

Scott gave a sideways glance which would make the hardest of men’s heart stop. “You better pray to whatever God you do that you don’t fuck this up. Lou get over there and help him, make sure the buns are ok and the fries are going to be ready.”

‘Two Toe’ Lou was another veteran who should of been doing it in the first place. He had only two toes from the multiple times fryer oil fell on his feet, that’s how long he has been in the game.

The pizza was a quarter way out of the oven, so far looking good. The best person on the line and probably one of the best of all time, Chet Cameron (nephew of Hank Cameron, manager of Foodville) slapped the dough out and sauced it.

‘Big’ James who is in charge of the nachos ran up with a paper cup that was full to the brim cheese. “Got this ready Scott!!”

“There is no motherlovin’ nacho cheese on this pizza!” Scott smacked the cup right out of ‘Big’ James’s hands causing the boiling hot cheese to splatter into the large man’s face. He ran off screaming, some were really losing it under the pressure.

I was back by this time– cleaned up as best as I could. Not only did this pizza have to be perfect but we needed to get there ridiculously fast. There were no drivers who were going to make it back in time so I was going to have to run it. Yes, it was an impossible task but we had no other choice.

My manager Scott relaxing at home.

Scott grabbed my shoulders and looked me up and down. “Guess it will do,” he kept muttering under his breath. Then he yelled, “Melvin bring over one of the CBs and some duct tape!”

“Why?”

“JUST DO IT!!!” Most of us who worked at the Pizza-A-Round had the feeling thatour new assistant manager, Melvin wasn’t going to make it through the night.

Scott took the CB and the duct tape and strapped the unit around my chest and the receiver around my ear. “You won’t be able to respond this is just for me to yell at you in hopes that it will help.”

The pizza was coming out of the oven, Scott raced back over and grabbed the oven peel. With the skill of a true pizza veteran he scooped it out perfectly and placed it squarely in the box. There was some light applause but Scott didn’t have any time for that. “Nuggets now!!”

Charlie the nugget guy was over with two huge oven mits holding the deep fryer net, the nuggets were still sizzling when they hit the pizza.

“Burgers and fries!! Burgers and fries!!”

Al Slappy brought the fries over the same way, then ran back and got two cheeseburgers. He handed them to Scott.

“I needed three cheeseburgers!! Pondicherry ordered an extra freakin’ one!!!” It was almost an inhuman yell.

‘Two Toe’ Lou limped past Al with a third cheeseburger. He had quickly realized the mistake and rushed to make another one. Somehow during this process he lost another toe which we could clearly see (for some reason Lou only wore beach sandals which could of been half the problem). Right now that couldn’t be the top concern. With everything on the pizza itself the box was closed immediately to keep it at its hottest. The box was placed in my hands.

No words were exchanged between Scott and I–his eyes told the whole story. I also knew there would be plenty of yelling coming my way through the CB taped to my ear. Without missing a beat Scott moved to the front door shoving customers out of the way while I followed closely on his heels. I wished that annoying girl and her boyfriend were coming in right now instead of a few minutes earlier, I would have LOVED to see those two get knocked down.

​The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza which retails for $29.95

As fate would have it I could see both of them laughing at me from the front window of the dining area when I was out on the sidewalk. I didn’t have much time to process it with Scott’s foot hitting my backside. “Run!!”
I started with a light jog since this wasn’t usually my thing but with Scott yelling at me from behind I was worried he would simply shoot me and try running it himself. I was in a full run (sweat already dripping from under my ‘Pizza-A-Round’ cap) by the time my booty was out of the parking lot and onto the road.

It was of course the evening rush hour and the roads were super super crazy. Things were made even more difficult with me sticking to the actual road and not the sidewalks in hopes of taking the most direct route possible. Cars were swerving out of the way, honking their horns, shaking their fists, even spitting at me. I kept yelling “Presidential pizza delivery!!” at the top of my lungs while the sweat poured down my face in hopes that would help. No luck, I think the drivers just couldn’t hear me. It also didn’t help matters with Scott yelling in my ear telling me to “hurry up” and “move my big ass faster”. I knew he didn’t mean most of the hateful things he would say over the CB, in fact we are actually pretty good friends, he was just stressed out.

A small ray of hope came when my former therapist, Dr.Nickelbee came driving slowly up behind in his electric car causing a traffic mess of his own. He rolled down his window. “Bri I need to talk with you.”

“Not now can’t you see I am making a Presidential pizza delivery?” I replied between heavy breaths.

“It’s important. We can talk while I drive you.” What choice did I have?

He pulled the little car over and I got in. As always, he put his hand on my knee right away. “Listen, I need to apologize to you about the way I acted the other day during our session.” (Please see my article from a few weeks ago for the details). “It was so wrong for me to lose it like that.”

“It’s OK, no worries, can you just drive now? I need to make this delivery.” The screaming in my ear wouldn’t let me forget.

Dr. Nickelbee paused for a second before collapsing into a full crying breakdown– banging his head against the steering wheel. “I just don’t want to lose you as a patient.”
“We need to go!” I could the feel the pizza losing its warmth from the box which was on my lap.

“I need you to tell me I can be your therapist again.”

“JUST DRIVE!”

“JUST SAY IT!!”

“Yes-yes now drive!”

Dr. Nickelbee– what is his problem?

With that we were off with Dr. Nickelbee still sobbing. His electric car is very slow and soon I realized it was probably quicker with me running again. It really didn’t matter– a few blocks later the car came to a stop, I guess the battery had died. He got out still sobbing, banging his fists up and down on the hood of the car. I couldn’t stop to deal with this. I was out of the car and on my way again leaving him to deal with the angry commuters he was holding up.

It was then that the problem of super squirrels came into play. Once they smelled the delicious aroma of the ‘Mid Morning Snack’ goodness and sensed that I was alone they were on my tail. I eventually had to raise the pizza above my head in an attempt to keep it safely intact. I kept shooing them off as best as I could without stopping. The only good thing to come out of the situation was when one of the squirrels bit through the CB wire, stopping the yelling in my ear.

When I finally made it to the presidential grounds the sun was starting to set and I knew I was far too late. And I knew that the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ would be going down in flames like the many others who attempted a quick delivery to our chief executive.

I slowly walked up to the guard booth where I was warmly greeted by the person on duty. He had gratefully shot at the super squirrels chasing them away when he saw me coming. “Say there son you sure are a big stinky sweaty mess.”

I handed over the box mumbling about trying to get there as quick as possible and if there was anybody to blame it was Dr. Nickelbee holding the whole thing up and he should go to prison. Then a desperate plea not to shut down my place of work.

When he realized what I was talking about the guard started to chuckle. “Say son, this pizza isn’t for the President, do you think he would eat crap like this?” The guard whistled and Pondicherry’s three dogs (all named Mr. Peepers} came running out. The guard open the box and then put it on the ground so the dogs could go to town on it. “He ordered this for these lovable mutts before vanishing into one of his underground bunkers for the night. There was no hurry in bringing it– hell, it could been another hour if need be.”

That dear readers is just another crazy night in the pizza trade. Until next time, please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy eating- Bri

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Dear gentle readers, I am sorry you haven’t heard from me in a few weeks. In relating what happened to me in the Deep Northern Suburban Hill Country, I came to the part where my kinfolk and the Cameron tribe discovered that my “old school chum” Nate Grossenbaum was really “The Great Addaric”. I tried off and on to write what happened next but the horror of it all was just too great. There is a reason President Poncherry doesn’t allow city folks into the hill country and I saw it all first hand. You really don’t think those cannibal films you see on the late night Lankville cable channels (usually scrambled because my folks won’t pay for it) really happen but I’m here to tell you that they do.

RIP Nate Grossbaum: What Were You Thinking?”

I suppose if there is a positive to be found in watching Nate being ripped opened while still alive and his organs being eaten by hill people was all the technology he left behind. For some reason the fool had all these generators up there so he could recharge all the stuff on his suit. I was able to use these to hook up the old microwaves my kinfolk had stolen from the city. Then, I showed them how to heat up all the pilfered “magical food”. It was quite a joy seeing the sparkle in their eyes as many in my tribe tasted their first bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich or spicy beef burrito. This gave the Schropp tribe the confidence to overwhelm the Camerons who had them on the run for awhile. Unfortunately the horror started all over again when the now defeated tribe was massacred and not only were body parts ripped off and organs ripped out but these things were being microwaved and eaten warmed! My lessons had been used for evil!

It was quite astonishing to see the gentle look in the eyes of Franz, Strong Fist and Hamburger one second and then, seconds later, witness the savage fury of human flesh eating. I had all that my sweet and tender mind could take so I made a quick exit when they were in full “eating the Cameron tribe mode”. My biggest fear was my kinfolk coming after me once they realized I was gone and then deciding to eat me even though I was their “Great Bumpkin”. A little ways down the hill as I was fleeing (in the direction I thought was home) I ran into Scott my manager at the “Pizza-A-Round”. He was leading a “search party” which consisted of Oscar and Omar my “cleaning team”. The two didn’t seem that happy in finding me (I really “crack the whip” at work sometimes) but Scott seemed pretty pleased. I could see by the full arsenal he had on him that Scott could safely lead me out of the hill country.

Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.

I’m pretty sure I would have never made my way out of the confusing twists and turns of the place without Scott. He kept his guard up constantly– “I’ll shoot anything that crosses my path- ANYTHING!” Luckily nothing too much crossed our path until we got closer to the outskirts of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. Then it was only a hobo or two.

When we made it back to the “Pizza-A-Round” things were in a state of chaos. It seems that without the strong leadership of Scott the place had fallen apart. The worst part was the dishes had piled up and the super squirrels were circling around the back door because they could the smell the crusted food. I didn’t even worry about changing out of the trash bag/deer skin hill outfit my folks made for me. I walked over to my “manager sink” and donned my yellow cleaning gloves. “Come on Oscar and Omar, to your sinks, CLEAN-CLEAN!!” The duo frowned and went about their tasks.

I think that my fellow co-workers were at first taken aback that I didn’t change out of my hill outfit and soon the

​Oscar and Omar- my “cleaning team” I know they really love me.

laughing and teasing began. I could hear the jokes and snickering behind my back but it didn’t matter– there were dishes to clean to “keep the ship afloat”. It started to affect the performance of the store as a whole, things started to get even more out of hand. Scott finally took out a gun and fired a few warning shots into the ceiling silencing everyone. “How dare you.” He scanned the whole room giving “the Scott look” to them all. “If you only had HALF the dedication that Bri has!! I swear I feel like shooting someone right now– just give me an excuse!!” They all calmed down then and got back to work. That’s what I mean when I talk about strong leadership!

Dr. Nickelbee, my therapist, who sits WAY too close to me.

When I got home to my “basement apartment” that night I reflected on how much Scott thought of me and it made me feel good. But the horrors of what I witnessed in the hill country wouldn’t leave my mind. After a few days I think my folks saw I had a lot on my mind and was not acting right, I wasn’t in the mood for any type of food (especially the breakfast pizza rolls my mom had started to make me recently) and not even attempting to watch scrambled porn on the Lankville cable late at night. Then the articles stopped, I couldn’t write a single word. Mom and Dad found me a therapist on the cheap so I could talk about it. His name is Dr. Nickelbee and he sits WAY to close to me on the couch. (Believe me readers you will be hearing more about him in future articles).

While stroking my knee tenderly he tells me I’m suffering from shock from the events that happened in the hill country and it’s turning into depression. He said the best medicine was to get back to writing those fantastic articles I do for the paper (then he squeezed my knee very, very hard). So here I am, “back in the game” so to speak. So please look forward to some excellent food articles in the coming weeks!! Until next time, keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas! Happy eating!!-Bri

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

So I found myself in a pretty rough spot, I was up in the rugged Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville kidnapped by the Cameron tribe and taken to see somebody or something called “The Great Addaric”. The worst part, I was desperately hungry– being taken before my lunch break at the “Pizza-A-Round”. My thoughts turned to the “Pizza Eggwich” I was going to make on my break. This cutting edge idea I had been working on for awhile and was looking forward to tasting my test product. The constant pushing, poking, and prodding by the Cameron Hill People kept bringing me back to reality.

“Keep moving chubby,” their leader (whose name was “Shifty Eyes”) said. “We will be to “The Great Addaric soon!”

The beautiful but dangerous Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville

Who was this Addaric jerk? And why had “Shifty Eyes” called me “The Great Bumpkin” earlier? (please see last article). These folks, much like their city namesakes, were not very friendly and were entirely unresponsive to my questioning. The steep rocky path they had me walking up was surrounded by heavy woods and a deep underbrush. It turned out to be an excellent ambush point for out of nowhere came another group of hill people. They advanced screaming their warrior cries and waving their weapons (some clearly had handmade weapons like spears and others had things collected from “city folk” like hubcaps). Having no idea who they were or what was going on I collapsed into my “defensive fetal position” which I learned in my old High School days.

This new group quickly drove off the Cameron tribe without much bloodshed. I was picked up and whisked away to the safety of the other side of the hill. The men put me down on my feet then they got down on one knee. They chanted “The Great Bumpkin” for a few minutes. Then the one who was clearly the leader of this group stood up and grabbed my shoulders, smiling.

“Great leader, cousin, dare I say friend, you have finally come to us!” He went on to say his name was “Franz” the leader of the Schropp Hill People!

I was overjoyed meeting my hill kinfolk and went around to shake each of their hands, grateful they had saved me. There was “Strong Fist”, “Dory”, “Hamburger”, “Merle” and “Sweet Berry” among many others. They got on their knees again and started to chant “The Great Bumpkin”.

“Come on guys, get up!” I was slightly embarrassed by all this but yet l did like the attention. “What is this Great Bumpkin thing about anyways?”

Franz grabbed my shoulders again “You!! Part man, part bumpkin. The one sent to the Schropp Hill People to save us!”

“Really? Did my folks contact you?” My mom and dad had tried over the years to pawn me off to various relations “for a break”.

“Our elders have spoken of you often. A special, sweet and tender person who was blessed with certain powers. Powers advanced to us hill people. Powers over magical food from your cities.”

“Hamburger” advanced and pulled a prepackaged breakfast sandwich out of his hill attire. “Great power, great power,” he mumbled.

“Not sure what is so powerful or magical about this but with the proper equipment I could make it for you.”
The group stepped back in astonishment “ohhhing” and “ahhhing”.

Schropp Hill People L to R- “Hamburger”, “Franz”, “Strong Fist”, “Sweet Berry”

I was then taken to meet the rest of my people were which was not far, they had set up a makeshift community of huts and tents by a river. After another warm greeting I was taken to a tent where I was finally able to
eat something. The women had prepared a rabbit stew (which was delightful) and then one brought some strips of beef jerky. “Magic food for you Great Bumpkin”. The jerky was a bit tough but topped off the stew nicely. I was then given new clothes to dress in which were a combination of deer skin and trash bags.

Franz took me on a tour of their mobile village– not only did they carry their tents and huts with them but they had a lot of older appliances (like microwave ovens and deep fryers) which they must have stolen from dumpsters on the outskirts of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. I could see they wanted to use these things to cook “magical food” but of course it was beyond them. If only there was some sort of power source where we could hook all this up and teach them.

After the tour Franz and I sat down to talk. It seems that the Schropp and Cameron hill tribes were two of the most powerful clans around. For many generations they lived side by side, tensions would flare up every once in awhile but mostly they lived peacefully. It wasn’t until last year that this “Great Addaric” showed up and starting helping the Camerons. My people seemed very frightened of this character– so much so that they soon fled their lands and went on the run.

I started to ask Franz what they were so scared of but we were interrupted by a commotion from outside. The cries and yells of the women, children and most of the men from my tribe told me I was going to find out sooner than later what “The Great Addaric” was all about.

​”The Not So Great Addaric”

I heard a loud distorted voice coming from the edge of the camp. “RUN YOU IDIOTS-RUN AWAY FROM MY POWERS!!”
I had to convince not only Franz but also “Strong Fist” and “Hamburger” to follow me. Pushing pass my kinfolk I made my way outside and was utterly shocked by who I found.

“Nate?”

Nate Grossenbaum was a dude I knew in High School– very much a loner who was into role playing games and goth music. He was now dressed in total black wearing some strange device he had rigged up to distort his voice and create this neon lighting effect that came out of his hands. I was pretty sure most of his outfit was an old laser tag game from our youth.

It took a moment for him to recognize me, most likely because of my new hill outfit. But once he did the lighting soon stopped from his hands and in a very human voice he yelled “Shit!!”. Nate took off back into the woods almost as if the Old Deep Northern Suburban Leathbacks high school football team was after him again.

“Come on tribe after him!!” I knew we had momentum on our side and we needed to get to this fool and find out what his deal was.

Next week all will be revealed in my final installment from the hill country!! Until then, Happy Eating-Bri

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

So the bust was set up and ready to go. I had six delicious large pepperoni sticks (from the SECOND pepperoni freezer) tucked in a duffel bag to hand over to Munny Joseph, “Big ” Eddie Jones, and Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay. Scott informed me that if the pepperoni sticks were damaged in any way it would come out of my paycheck (just like the other things I “stole” to gain the trust of these pizza thugs). I told Scott this could possibly add up to me owing him money.

“Guess you will have to work on your days off to make up for it, that’s life Bri,” Scott said harshly. “Now, lift up your shirt.” We were in his office a few hours before the bust was scheduled to happen.

“But-but why?” I was always uncomfortable being undressed in front of the human species.

Scott pulled out an old style micro recorder and some duct tape. “Going to wrap this around you and record the whole conversation in case there is any question from Detective Gee-Temple afterwards.”

“You said you would be acting rightfully under Lankville law after I handed over the pepperoni?”

“Maybe-maybe,” Scott replied. “I sorta looked over some stuff at the courthouse and I’m still not really sure. I have a hard time focusing on words written in paragraphs. No one is going to blame to me though, this is choice pepperoni!!”

From L to R- “Big” Eddie Jones, Munny Joseph, Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay

I raised my arms while he taped the recorder around me. Not only was I going to be walking into a potentially dangerous situation I had no business being in, but now this tape was going to really really hurt when it was time for it to come off.

After squeezing back into my “Pizza-A-Round” shirt, I thought you could clearly see the micro recorder sticking out from my side.

“Just say you have a tumor, you gotta remember these three guys are really dumb even by pizza business standards.”

We went over the game plan yet again. I was supposed to meet Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay at his sleeping hole at 6:10. I had to hold off actually handing over the goods until all three were there. Scott didn’t want any of them getting away and not feeling his wrath. What was I supposed to say if I had to stall for time? Scott recommended things like small girl motel wrestling, glue sniffing, the Lankville drag racing scene, making out with girls. Stuff I knew NOTHING about!! (OK folks you did catch me in a minor lie, I am a fan of small girl motel wrestling). Scott said I was over-thinking the situation and told me not to worry.

“You wanna’ carry a piece with you, Bri?” he asked, as he removed a metal briefcase from beneath his desk.

I patently refused.

​The micro-recorder Scott savagely wrapped around me.

I left by the office “secret door” (which is just a slightly larger but very dirty air duct) and had nothing but worry on my mind. The few hours passed quickly and I was soon walking down some of the worst streets in Deep Southwestern Suburban Lankville towards Finlay’s sleeping hole. The only thing that made me feel safe was knowing Scott was in his car not too far behind with a full arsenal of weapons. Finlay’s address was hard to locate since the numbers on these “houses” were hard to read. Thinking I had finally found the correct place, I knocked on the rotten piece of wood which may have been a door and after a few deep breaths went inside. The interior was dark, it was evening and the idea of somebody actually paying for electricity for this dump seemed like a joke.

“Hello-hello?” I mumbled while stumbling around what I hoped was furniture and not bodies.

“Back here.” I could always recognize the nasally whine of Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay. I felt my way along a wall until I made my way into a “kitchen area” where Finlay sat at a table. The grey light of the evening was coming through an open (there was no glass) window.

He smiled his elvish smile while picking up a dirty beer bottle off the table and taking a swig. “Bring the goods?”

I nodded- lifting up the bag.

“Hand it over and let me see. I can tell by smelling the sticks if it’s from the second pepperoni freezer or not.” He somehow seemed impressed by this skill.

Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay’s sleeping hole.

I remembered what Scott said about stalling until the others were there so I tried my best. “So say Danny, have you ever- you know- had -like-relations with a woman-I mean a girl-I mean a honey? I-I have- don’t get me wrong–it’s just nice you know-laying down together–having a nice talk, stroking each other’s hair—what are your thoughts?” I think I did an okay job.

He took a slow swig from his dirty beer bottle. “Stalling for time Schropp? Was that part of the plan you and Scott came up with?”

Before I even had time to answer the back door was kicked open and in came “Big” Eddie Jones and Munny Joseph with Scott. They had Scott by one of his arms– I hadn’t seen such a shocked expression on my manager’s face before. “I’m sorry Bri, don’t know how they found out?!”

The three pizza thugs laughed. “You think we are idiots, Scott?” Munny said scowling at his manager. “But you’re the one who is the real clown. You think it’s been just us three in on this operation and it’s just pepperoni that’s being taken? Well there’s a fourth member, the real mastermind, who is giving us the low down on what to steal and when.”

Scott got the “Scott look” on his face. “Who?”

Eddie chuckled in his goofy voice. “Martha, the head phone lady! She even heard you guys planning this afternoon and gave us the heads up.”

It was my turn to be shocked. Martha the sassy but sweet lady who did her best to teach me the phones and was always smacking my butt. All the special times I had with her in my short time there, not only the yelling and screaming when I took a wrong order (which was a lot) but the laughs, the tender talks, the sometimes soft cuddling in the back of her car. How could she do this?!!

Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.

Scott wasted no time pulling away from the grips of Eddie and Munny and then punching their lights out with just one blow each! Danny’s elven like reflexes acted quickly and he flew up from the table and crawled under an area by the nearby rusted sink. Scott took a gun out from his waistband and quickly walked over and fired a few shots under the sink. He turned around and shook his head. “I think there is a whole tunnel system under the house, damn that kid is fast.”

I asked him what he was going to do with the two others. “I couldn’t give a damn about them right now Bri,” he said while reloading his gun. “There is only one person who is going to face my rage full force and she is working the closing shift right now!!”

If it was anybody else I wouldn’t of cared, but I placed a hand on Scott’s arm. “I know what she has done is inexcusable but please let me talk to her. I promise you will never see her again.”

Scott looked at me with full rage, I thought I was next for a punch. Then his look softened a little. “Alright you have until I figure out what to do with these two chumps over there. Once that’s done I’m heading back to the “Pizza-A-Round” and if she is there I swear to you Bri it’s not going to be a pretty sight.”

I didn’t have very much time and the shop was some distance away. I dropped the duffel bag of pepperoni sticks so it wouldn’t weigh me down and ran as fast as I could. By the time I got there I was in a slow jog and I was a sweaty mess. The phones were ringing off the hook since it was the late evening pizza rush. Martha made her usual fuss when I said I needed to speak with her but she could see by the look in my eyes that it was serious. I gently took her by the hand and led her out into the parking lot. I told Martha how the events of the evening unfolded and how the others ratted her out.

Martha, the real mastermind

“You have to let me explain, I never meant for it to go this far. I needed extra money and—”

I put my hand up to her lips. “You don’t have time to explain, Scott will be on his way soon. You need to go and never show your face here again.”

“I never meant to hurt–”

“Me? You have. Not just because you put me in harm’s way of those pizza thugs but because you are not the woman I thought you were. The woman who found a warm place in my half-human half-bumpkin heart.”

“Can I–”

“Slap my butt one more time? No, we are beyond that.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Don’t worry, there are thousands of pizza places in Lankville. I would suggest somewhere over the border into Southern Lankville. It will be rough going but you will make it. When you get your act cleaned up I only ask that you think of me fondly every once in awhile.” I wiped a small tear from her eye.

In the last rays of the evening light Martha walked out of the “Pizza-A-Round” parking lot with her head slumped down. Yes dear readers the pizza trade is a hard hard business indeed.

BRI